Their Place
by xhappily-randomx
Summary: The place was a dump, full of smoke and crappy furniture. But she loved it, because every time she went there she could see him. It was their place. Amuto AMUxIKUTO One-shot.


**Hey guys! Another one-shot for you! I dunno why I decided to write this. It just came in my mind after I listened to the songs "Don't Trust Me" and "Mr. Brightside". I dunno why... lol! I just have a way of relating everything to Shugo Chara! ;)**

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Amu walked through the snow, getting her new shoes soaking wet as the sky poured more down onto her. She cursed her luck for wearing a tank top and a skirt today with only a sweater to keep herself warm on such a cold day. Amu never checked the weather reports or even bothered to glance out her window when she changed. She just always assumed that it would be warm out. Of course, it almost never turned out in her favour. The world never seemed to go according to her plans.

She grumbled to herself as she finally got to her destination, The Wild Badger Bar. Amu thought – as she did every time she came here – that it was a horrible name, and shoved open the door. The door swung shut behind her as she moved towards a bar stool and plopped herself down. The place was a dingy little dive. There was barely enough light to see, and the place was covered in smoke. It stank, it was dirty, a lot of the people weren't very good company, and the drinks sucked. But it was _their_ place.

"Vodka, I don't care what brand," Amu demanded. The bartender grunted in response and reached below the counter for a bottle and a glass. Technically Amu was seventeen, and therefore underage, but it's not like it really mattered. No one here cared, and she sure as hell didn't.

The bartender handed her a shot glass full of vodka. She grabbed it and downed it in one gulp, slammed it back down onto the table and ordered another. Amu relished in the pleasant warm buzz it gave her as it burned its way down her throat.

"Getting into the holiday spirit I see."

Amu looked up to see a familiar man staring back down at her. She snorted, "Like you didn't come here to down a few shots yourself. What do you want to drink? I'll buy it for you. Think of it as a Christmas Eve present."

"Actually it's after midnight, so Merry Christmas," Ikuto said. His deep blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he withdrew a candy cane from his pocket and handed it to her. Amu greedily snatched it from his hands. It was a standard white and red swirled candy cane wrapped in plastic, but it had a little pink bow tied around it. "Someone was handing them out today at the mall, so I grabbed one."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you," Amu responded sarcastically as she slipped the treat into the pocket of her sweater. She really did appreciate it though. She liked it so much she didn't even want to eat it. Well, maybe a little. Even if he hadn't thought of her when he got it she still felt a warm rush of happiness of being given a gift. "All the snow in your hair melted, and now it's got little water droplets all over it."

He ran his hands through his blue hair – the hair that Amu had often thought about running her own hands through. It looked like it would be soft. She patted down her own hair to try and get rid of the water. And to keep her hands occupied.

"You look good Amu," He commented. Amu started to blush. "Other than the fact that your makeup's started to run from the snow."

"W-what!?" Amu yelled. "How bad is it? What is it? Mascara? Eyeliner? Eye shadow?" She dug through her purse, trying to find a compact mirror. "Why didn't I bring a mirror today!?"

He started laughing and Amu turned towards him in surprise. "Just kidding. You look as pretty as you usually do."

"You jerk! Why did you tell me my makeup was messed up when it wasn't?" Amu growled and pounded on his chest.

"I love to see you freak out. It's amusing," he answered. "And that doesn't hurt, you know."

"_Ikuto_!" She exploded in exasperation.

Tsukiyomi Ikuto to be precise. You might think they were old friends judging by the way they acted, but in reality they'd only met about a year ago in this very bar. Amu had met him the first time she came to this place.

She had been sixteen, depressed at the moment and looking to blow off a little steam somewhere. Amu hadn't been paying attention to where she was walking, just going off into a daze as she stomped around. When she looked up she saw The Wild Badger Bar.

Going into a bar had been a foreign and unthought-of idea at the time. She had been a good girl her whole life. She had good grades, never drank, never partied, and avoided flirting with boys. Amu had done everything her parents wanted, everything that was expected of her. Her parents weren't necessarily strict, but there were those unsaid or implied rules and regulations.

Amu's dad was a famous photographer, often traveling around the world to take his pictures – excuse her, _photographs._ Papa always went off on a long lecture whenever she called his photos pictures, as if the word were somehow offensive to his work. Her mom owned a chain of magazines around the world. She was quite the business woman; though often fell short in her duty as a mother because of her frequent business trips.

Amu was almost always alone. She took care of the house, cooked her own meals, cleaned, and looked after herself. It wasn't just at home though. It was at school too. She was really just a shy girl, but on the first day of high school had put on a fake exterior personality. Amu was donned with the title of "Cool-and-Spicy" and thought to be very cool, and basically unapproachable. Sure, people loved it when they were partnered with her for school activities and they would converse accordingly, but she had no real _friends_.

She shot down a boy once when he confessed to her. Maybe she had done it too harshly – the idea of some random boy she had barely spoken to confessing his undying love to her scared her, and maybe, just maybe, she ended up saying something along the lines of "You think I could love you?" Undoubtedly the boy heard her say it like "You think _I_ could love_ you_" but she didn't mean to be mean, she just didn't understand how he could expect her to like him when they hadn't said two words to each other. Rumours exploded through her high school, and no other boy had ever said anything about liking her again.

So there she stood, a lonely, friendless, and parentless girl – and on her _birthday_ nonetheless – staring up at the old sign above the old door of The Wild Badger Bar. Deciding that she deserved to do something like this at least once in her life she threw open the door, marched towards one of their cracking fake leather-covered seats, and threw herself down on top of it.

It was so dark inside! And the smoke from the cigarettes of the other customers made it hard to see. It also made her want to gag and rub her now-itchy eyes. The bar stool was uncomfortable, especially on her back. The countertop was old and wooden, and sticky under her arms. A pool table stood untouched near the back of the room. She couldn't see any of the pool balls to play with either.

Amu wanted to leave this place and forget about it just as much as she felt rooted in her place, wanting to stay and drown out her problems.

"A drink please," she ordered to the same bartender that still worked there to this day. When he asked her what kind – as if she were an idiot or something – she told him to grab whatever was closest to him, that it didn't matter. He gave her a shot glass (not that she knew what that was at the time) full of vodka. Amu had looked at it, wondering why it was so small, and downed it all at once. She broke out into a fit of coughs as it burned her throat and oddly warmed her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick. She ordered another one. After a while it would become her standard drink.

"I see you like the hard stuff," a guy beside her said. Amu wondered how she hadn't seen him right when she'd come it. He was, without a doubt, the hottest guy Amu had ever laid eyes on. He had midnight blue hair that hung a little messily into his indigo eyes that peered curiously at her. "Interesting."

"M-my name's Hinamori Amu!" She blurted, then cursed herself for sounding so stupid. Maybe she deserved that look the bartender had given her.

"Nice to know," he was all he said.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Amu asked.

"Why bother?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Because it's polite?"

"Have you looked at where you are? Politeness really isn't an issue here," Ikuto deadpanned. "And besides, 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet', right?"

"Isn't that line a little overplayed?" Amu rolled her eyes.

"It's not overplayed, it's a classic," the blue hair stranger said.

"Will you tell me because I want to know?" Amu tried again.

"No."

"Fine! Just go ahead and be a jerk!" Amu yelled. She pouted down at her shot glass full of vodka and traced her fingertip along the rim. She raised the glass to her lips and took a small sip. "Blech!"

The guy snickered, "Don't drink very often do you?"

"Is it really _that_ obvious?" Amu mumbled.

"Usually people don't make disgusted noises when drinking," he told her. "So if it's not the high-class service or the delicious drinks, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be home with your family enjoying a nice homey dinner or something?"

"No family to return to," she muttered quietly enough that he couldn't hear. Amu just shrugged her shoulders to him.

"This place is like a harbour for lost souls. It drags them in. You're here for a reason. So what are your troubles little strawberry?" he questioned.

"Strawberry?" Amu wondered.

"Your hair, it's pink," he explained.

"If it's pink, shouldn't you pick a pink food, like watermelon or something?"

"Strawberries are cuter," he said.

"Fruit isn't _cute_. Fruit is just fruit," Amu disagreed.

"You're too serious, and analytical. You're not in school; you're in the real world. Now stop changing the subject and answer my question," he demanded.

Amu blinked in surprise from his statement. Was she really too serious? Too analytical? Her mother and father had always been proud that she was serious, proud of her analytical mind. The people at school thought her personality was "Cool-and-Spicy." A voice in the back of her mind said _screw them, act however you want. Don't be their image of you, or the school's impression of you, act like _you_._ Now the question was, who _was_ she?

"I... I'm..." Amu paused, thinking of an adjective to describe her feeling at the moment, "disappointed. And angry, annoyed, sad, frustrated, and just about any other emotion you can think of that doesn't involve being happy or content in any way. It's my sixteenth birthday today, and it's definitely not so sweet. My dad's been in Europe for three weeks now taking _photographs_, and he's not coming back for another three. My mom left on some business trip, and I found out today after school by finding a sticky note – a _sticky note_ – on the fridge saying she was sorry but she had to leave. Sorry my ass! I'm a friendless loser who instead of having a party or eating a birthday cake with my family, spent most of the evening eating frosting right out of the jar with a big old spoon!" By the end of her rant she was breathless and panting from the sudden rush of emotions. She'd never ranted before, especially not about emotions. She had kind of been bottling those up for a while now. It felt oddly weird to be free of them.

"So this all happened today?" He asked.

"It's not just today, it's _every _day. It's my pathetic life," Amu answered.

"You eat a jar of frosting every day?" The stranger smirked.

"No," she snapped. "Of course not! I told you why I'm here, so why are you here?"

His eyes suddenly got a cold and slightly pained look in them. She almost wished she hadn't asked now. "My dad left my sister, mother, and I when I was pretty young. He owned the Easter Entertainment Industry-" _Wow! That's a big company!_ Easter represented so many singers and actors as well as producing a wide variety of television shows. "-but when he left my mother couldn't run the company. She ended up remarrying some vile guy who took over the company. Now I'm forced to work for his hateful ass. There's that, and the fact that I was really thirsty."

He started off so serious, and then ended on a joke. _He doesn't make any sense to me._

The guy stood up and paid his tab. "Hey Amu, happy birthday," He said and leaned down to kiss Amu's forehead. His lips felt pleasantly warm against her skin, and Amu felt her face start to heat up.

"H-hey! W-what was th-that f-for!?" Amu stuttered out as forcefully as she could.

"It's a birthday present," he answered as he started for the door.

"Who said I wanted that as a birthday present?" she called out after him.

"Don't think about it so much, just accept it. And by the way, you look cute when you blush little strawberry." The heavy door slammed shut behind him.

Amu came back to the bar the next day, hoping to see the stranger again. It was weird, her common sense told her that she shouldn't go back to such a precarious place, that she should be wary of the man she met last night, that talking to random guys in bars wasn't safe, but for once she didn't listen. She felt drawn to that guy. If nothing else, she just needed to find out his name.

She managed to drag his age out of him though.

"Eighteen," he answered her question.

They were currently talking at the back of the room, near the still untouched pool table, that upon closer inspection had a number of cobwebs on.

"I'm sixteen," Amu told him.

"I didn't ask."

"Jerk," she stuck her tongue out at him.

He grinned at her. "So what brings you back here little strawberry?"

"I was wondering... if you'd tell me your name?" Amu asked.

"Not a chance," he replied.

"_Please_! I'd do anything!" Woops, she didn't mean to say the last part out loud.

"_Anything_?" He repeated teasingly. He pushed her lightly back against the wall, pressing himself against her. His head was cheek-to-cheek with hers as he whispered in her ear. "Would you really do _anything_?"

Her heart hammered in her chest so hard it almost hurt. Her face had to be glowing red with embarrassment. "P-pervert! Get off of me!" She yelled and shoved him off. "If you're just going to be a pervert-slash-jerk why don't you just go home?"

He shrugged, "Okay." He moved away from her towards the door.

"Wait, I wasn't really serious..." Amu protested.

"I'm just granting your wish," he said. For a second she thought she hurt his feelings until he turned around, winked at her and stuck out his tongue, then left.

Amu came back to the bar every night that week, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stranger who'd captured her interest, and she was never once disappointed. And on the last day of the week, she got him to tell her his name: Tsukiyomi Ikuto. Well, she didn't so much _make_ him tell her, as he did just randomly say it.

"So, you came back _again_? Has this become a regular spot for you?" he asked.

Amu shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it has. I kind of... like it here. I like spending time here."

"You're going to keep coming back? Every day?" He pressed.

"Um, yeah. I think so. At least I'll try to get here every day," Amu answered.

The boy – whose name was still unknown to her at this moment – just nodded. There was a long pause, where no one said anything. He looked as if he were completely fine with it being silent. Amu, however, was panicking in her head She felt awkward, like someone should be talking, but he looked he was deep in thought, so she didn't really _want_ to say anything. What if she broke his concentration or something!? She was starting to panic when he said, "Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

Amu blinked a few times before going, "Huh?" What was he _talking_ about?

He grinned in an amused manner, "My name. Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

"Oh. Why are you telling me now?" Amu wondered.

Ikuto just shrugged. "Felt like it. And I was thinking, if you didn't know my name, what were you referring to me as in your head? You probably made up some weird name for me like superheroes have, and that thought kind of made me worry for your sanity."

"Hey! I did _not_ make up a weird name for you! I just call you 'that guy' or 'he,'" Amu said.

"So you admit that you think about me?" Ikuto smirked triumphantly.

"I-I d-didn't say that!" she protested.

"Of course not," he said mockingly, and gave her a demeaning pat on the head. Amu blushed furiously and turned away from him. "I also," Ikuto paused, "wanted to tell you."

She addressed him as Ikuto from then on, just like he addressed her as Amu. First name, no honorifics. It just felt right.

The two of them had eventually become... something to each other. Friends? Acquaintances? Was it more than that? Neither of them bothered to put a label on a good thing.

Amu began to change little by little, becoming more of her own self every day. She made a couple friends at school as well. She was happier than she'd ever been before, though her absence of a family still left a gaping hole in her heart. Maybe Ikuto was changing too?

And now here Amu was, one year later, talking the same Tsukiyomi Ikuto, the guy who had captured her heart.

"_Ikuto_!" Amu yelled again. "Don't ignore me when I'm yelling at you!"

"But it gets you all worked up, it's funny," Ikuto smirked, and pulled her down onto his lap.

"H-hey! Let go!" Amu protested and struggled to get up, even though what she really wanted to do was just curl up in his lap and wrap her arms around him. He wasn't letting go, so she gave up with a pout. "Pervert. Why are you here anyways? Don't you have better things to do?"

"I was actually invited to a Christmas party at my office, but that's not necessarily _better_. And I knew you'd be here, so I thought you might like company," he said.

Sometimes he'd spontaneously say those kinds of things. The kinds of things that Amu just wanted to kiss him for. Amu could never count on her family to be there when she needed them, and her friends were too new to completely lean on (plus she didn't want to burden them with her problems). She could always count on Ikuto though. He was there for her, every day.

"So what's my little strawberry write down on her wish list this year?" Ikuto asked. Her nickname had been changed from just 'little strawberry' to '_my_ little strawberry'. The difference might seem insignificant to some people, but it meant the world to Amu.

"This," Amu said quietly.

"And 'this' would be referring to...?"

"I wanted... I wanted to spend Christmas with... you..." she whispered. _With someone I love_.

"That's not much of a wish. I would've been there waiting, no matter what," Ikuto said and pulled her tighter against himself so that her head was resting on his chest.

"What are you doing tonight?" Amu blurted out.

"Nothing," he answered sounding a little confused.

"Then... then do you want to c-come h-home with me? And when w-we wake up tomorrow we c-can spend Christmas together. I-I want to spend at least o-one Christmas with someone I-I l-l-love," Amu stuttered shyly. She gazed intently – and embarrassedly – into his eyes.

Ikuto looked softly back at her and stroked her cheek. "I love you too. But before we leave, I want to get my present."

"B-but I didn't-" Amu's sentence broke off as Ikuto's mouth crashed against hers. She'd never kissed a boy before – she had only fundamental knowledge of anything boy-related. Amu threaded her fingers through his hair and was pleased to find it was just as soft as she thought it would be. She moved her mouth along with his, and was eventually the one to break the kiss. She was panting for air, while Ikuto just grinned at her.

"Let's go home," Ikuto said and Amu slipped down from his lap. She took his hand and led the way out of _their_ place.

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**It's now 1:35 am. :P And I now have 8 and a half pages of an amuto one-shot. Yay! Lol! Time well spent in my opinion.**

**Thanks for reading! Hoping you enjoyed it! Please review!  
3 Happily-random!**


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